My brother-in-law, Des, is preparing a 665km kayak trip down the River Murray. It’s not just his love of kayaking that prompts this venture; there’s been a fire in his belly ever since he visited Kitgum, Uganda, with my sister Janet, who had previously delivered relief to the school and orphanage there, a place of refuge and rehabilitation for many orphaned by AIDS and war. A number of the children there are previous child soldiers.

I reflect on this as I prepare tomorrow’s message on The Power of Lament. The passage is Luke 13:31-35 where Jesus laments over Jerusalem. He recognises the short fallings of places of power that are meant to be places of healing. The imprints of rejected and murdered prophets and sages are here, and their ghosts continue to cry out the summons to healing, wholeness and peace. Jesus will be the next to meet his end, but he embraces his path willingly, for his end is not defeat, but teleos, accomplishment.

Jerusalem can be a symbol for wherever we are. We are called to embrace the pain of the world, but not in defeat. We engage suffering, not in self-indulgence, but in purposefulness. It is to accomplish expression of the shalom of which the prophets spoke and which Jesus achieved in completeness.

I suspect this is something of the drive behind what Des is attempting. May we all have occasion to reflect and respond similarly where we see opportunity.

The Spirit of Compassion by Raynor Hoff (1894–1937), carved from marble on the South Australian National War Memorial, unveiled in 1931. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Healthy are they who from the inner womb birth forth compassion,
they shall feel its warm arms embracing them.

(Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy)

Mercy is often depicted as the grudging letting go of rightful retribution or discipline for a wrong, along the lines of “OK, I’ll let you off this time,but you’re on notice. Don’t let it happen again.” It is often associated with a Western understanding of jurisprudence, allowing for some melioration of the hardness of the cold scales of justice

The word in Greek is eleos, taken after the god Eleos renowned in Hellenistic mythology for pity and compassion. The stories relate to shelter and reprieve for those caught in the maelstrom of political and military conflict.

The translation from Aramaic reinforces not only the notion, but the depth of commitment and nurture behind compassion. Indeed it is a quality that is birthed rather than decided. It is warm and flowing, eschewing all association with jurisprudence.

We may know some such merciful ones.

Recent attention on Uganda has contrasted the viral Stop Kony campaign (for justice) and not so well known rebuilding programs such as those run by the Irene Gleeson Foundation which provides shelter, food, health care, education and vocation for former child soldiers and the following generations. The latter is the face of mercy.